


i am delusional with love

by sea_jays



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Beverly Marsh, Bisexual Disaster Richie Tozier, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Panic, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_jays/pseuds/sea_jays
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is 13 when he realizes he’s in love with his best friend.It takes him another five years to do anything about it.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & The Losers Club, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 20
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm obsessed with IT (mostly Reddie) and I've finally decided to write a real fic, and I'm very nervous about it. The characterization might not be perfect, I've only read the book once and seen the movies like twice (still haven't watched the mini-series, but I will soon!) and a lot of it I've picked up from reading other fics. 
> 
> The rating may end up changing, I haven't decided just how sexual this fic is going to end up, and some sensitive topics will probably be touched since y'know, it's Derry. I will adjust the tags and try to warn accordingly.
> 
> The title is a lyric from Cough It Out by The Front Bottoms because something about that band just screams Reddie to me.

Eddie Kaspbrak was 13 years old when he realized he was in love with Richie Tozier.

It was a warm summer day, and Eddie was bored. All his friends were busy; Stan had a family thing he absolutely couldn’t get out of, Mike and Bill were out riding their bikes, and although he had an open invitation he knew it was _their thing_ so he’d politely declined, and Ben and Bev had a study date at the library, which he _definitely_ would have been a third wheel to. Eddie had thought about just staying home, he had a fan in his room and a pile of books to read, but then his mother had started on one of her health rants and he had decided that anywhere would be better than home.

Richie had already been in the clubhouse when Eddie climbed down the ladder, stretched out in the hammock with one leg hanging over the side. His sneaker scratched softly against the ground as the hammock swung lazily back and forth, and he glanced up from his comic at Eddie’s entrance, eyes lighting with his smile.

“Eddie my love! It’s always a good day when I get to see your cute little face!” 

Eddie pursed his lips, debating whether he wanted to just climb right back up the ladder. It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with Richie, in fact, after Bill, Richie was his best friend. He loved hanging out with Richie! They would read comics and Richie would make some joke about the hero’s outfit or not-so witty one-liners. They would argue and sit far too close to each other, and Richie would say something crude about Eddie’s mom that would have him pushing Richie off of whatever he was sitting on, and things would feel _nice_ and _warm_.

But lately … lately something was different. 

_Eddie_ was different. 

Things still felt _nice_ and _warm_ , but they also felt _hot_ and _scary_. Eddie was aware of Richie in a way he’d never been before, aware of each breath and tiny movement, aware of the mess of curls that Richie didn’t even try to control that drove Eddie mad. When Richie touched him he could feel it in his bones, little jolts of electricity that made him twitch. When Richie smiled - really, _truly_ smiled - he lost the ability to breathe. 

It was like he was dying and the disease was Richie.

Even now, his heart was beating too fast, pounding against his ribcage like it was trying to break free and fly away. His palms were sweaty, fingers twitching against his thighs, and his face felt a few degrees too warm. He licked his suddenly dry lips and wondered when he’d gotten so thirsty. 

_Was_ he dying? He had to be. It was the only explanation. He’d gotten heatstroke, or something. It _was_ uncharacteristically warm out for a Maine summer, and although Ben had tried, the clubhouse was practically an oven with its lack of ventilation. His mother’s voice filled his head with all the symptoms he was showing, and his chest tightened painfully. 

“Eds?” There was a lack of humor in Richie’s voice, and that was enough to jerk Eddie out of his panic spiral. He realized he’d been standing at the entrance for who knows how long, staring blankly at a scrape on Richie’s knee.

“Don’t call me Eds,” he muttered with no heat, shoving all thoughts of dying out of his head. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He didn’t have heatstroke, he was just … 

He shook his head and moved further into the clubhouse. He didn’t know what was up with him, but he _wasn’t_ dying. That was just his mother talking. 

“What brings you down here, old chap?” Eddie rolled his eyes as Richie fell into one of his Voices, dropping to a seat in one of the few chairs they’d managed to scrounge up. It wasn’t the most comfortable, and he didn’t know the last time it’d been cleaned, but it was that or the dirt floor since Richie had claimed the hammock. 

“It’s summer, and I was bored.” He picked up a nearby comic, flipping through the pages without really seeing the contents. He’d read it before, but he needed _something_ to do with his hands. Something that wasn’t reaching across the small distance and fixing the stray curl that had flopped over Richie’s forehead. There was no reason for him to do something like that. None. 

“Ah, so you came for me then.” Richie winked and Eddie sputtered, a blush scorching across his cheeks. “I _am_ an endless source of entertainment. What do you want Eds?”

_I want you to shut up and kiss me._

The thought came out of nowhere, surprising Eddie. He hadn’t chosen to think it, in fact he hadn’t given the thought _permission_ to be thought. He didn’t even realize he’d had the capacity to think something like that.

Except _why_ would he think that? 

Why would he want to kiss _Richie_? 

“Eds?”

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie leapt to his feet, his eyes wide and wild. He knew he was overreacting, but he had to react to something, and it most certainly couldn’t be the thoughts he was having. 

Richie’s brow furrowed, and for once there was no smile on his face. Instead he looked at Eddie with … concern, one hand reaching out as if to touch him.

“Eddie, are you okay?” No humor in his voice, no joke waiting to be said, just worry. Worry for Eddie who was currently losing his goddamn mind. 

“Fine! I’m fine! I just … I have-” He waved a hand towards the ladder and the open door above, smacking Richie’s reaching hand out of the way in the same movement. “I need to leave!”

“What? But you just got here?”

“My mom! She’s worried! I have to go!” He scrambled up the ladder faster than he thought possible, ignoring the lingering tingle from where Richie’s outstretched fingers had brushed his elbow. 

He couldn’t believe it. 

There was no way it was possible. 

He couldn’t be in love with Richie _fucking_ Tozier. 

Clearly he _was_ dying of heatstroke, or malaria, or some other disease. Maybe he’d contracted something on his way to the clubhouse, a stray mosquito or a scratch from a tree branch. He should go home, tell his mother he was dying, and then they would go to the hospital and he would get fixed up. He would come back to the clubhouse and Richie would call him _Eds_ or _my love_ and touch his leg or his shoulder, and his heart _wouldn’t_ beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings. 

It was fixable, curable.

He wasn’t in love with Richie.

He _wasn’t_.

* * *

Except he most definitely was. 

He avoided the world for the rest of the day, staying locked in his room and ignoring the rest of the Losers’ calls. When they asked he told them some lie about a possible fever, said his mom had him on house arrest. Guilt tore at his stomach, he hated lying, especially to his friends, but he couldn’t tell them the truth. 

He was _hopelessly_ in love with Richie. 

After he’d gotten home he’d told his mom a half-truth. It was too hot to play outside, he was just going to hang out in his room where he had a fan. She seemed pleased by the turn of events, and he quickly shut himself away, pacing a hole in his floor as he tried to figure out what to do. 

Although he already knew what to do. Nothing! There was nothing to do!

Even _if_ he were in love with Richie it didn’t matter. Richie wasn’t gay, and neither was Eddie. Except … _if_ he were in love with Richie wouldn’t that make him …

He shook his head and bit back a strangled scream, throwing himself to his bed and slamming his face into his pillow. 

Maybe he _was_ gay, or at least not straight. Maybe there _were_ feelings for Richie.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

He groaned into his pillow and wondered if faking his own death and moving to Australia would be an overreaction. He’d be willing to face all the poisonous creatures down under if it meant he didn’t have to face _this_.

When his mother knocked on his door, more of a formality than an actual respect of his privacy, and told him dinner was ready, he dragged himself out of bed and down the stairs. He pushed his food around his plate, making sure to eat enough to keep his mother from worrying, saying something about it being too hot to have an appetite when he excused himself early. 

It was still light out, and would be for hours. Any other day Eddie would be out with his friends, soaking up every ray of sunlight before he’d be expected home. His phone was full of messages from the Losers; Bev sent him pictures of cats with a _feel better, babe_ and kissy face emoji, Bill sent him a picture of a creepy doll they had found on their adventure today, and Richie … Richie had been uncharacteristically silent.

He’d responded to Eddie’s excuse in the group message with _I’ll nurse you back to health *winky face*_ , but after that … nothing. He hadn’t spammed Eddie with memes, or stupid jokes, or endless selfies. 

Had Eddie fucked up? Did Richie realize why he’d been so weird? Was this his way of saying “Hey Eddie, I know you’re in love with me and I don’t feel the same”? Did Richie not even want to be friends anymore? Was he that disgusted by Eddie’s feelings? 

Eddie wanted to scream. It wasn’t _fair_. He didn’t choose to be in love with Richie! He didn’t choose to be … gay. 

“ _Fuck!_ ” he shouted, kicking the leg of his bed frame, which just lead to another yell as pain shot up his foot. He flopped back to his bed and squeezed his eyes shut. 

He was surprised by how easy it was to accept the gay thing, or at least the not-fully-straight thing. He couldn’t say how he felt about girls, Bev being the only one he really interacted with on a regular basis, and yeah she was definitely pretty, but she didn’t make his heart race like … like a certain someone. He liked seeing her smile, but he didn’t actively try to make it happen. His gaze didn’t linger on bare skin when she wore shorts or a low-cut top, he didn’t find any excuse he could to touch said skin. 

Was it because he was gay? Or was it just because she was Beverly?

He frowned and glanced at his laptop. Whenever he had a health concern he turned to google, usually working himself into a tizzy as he read all the symptoms of the possible disease he was dying of. Being gay wasn’t a disease, regardless of what his mother said, but maybe google would have some answers.

He grabbed the laptop, resting it on the foot of his bed, his feet kicking in the air lazily. The first thing he did was open incognito mode. He didn’t think his mother checked his search history, but he didn’t dare risk it as he quickly typed his question into the search engine.

_Am I gay?_

Not the best question, and his results were a lot of online tests. He thought about taking one, but figured it wouldn’t be a conclusive answer and just a waste of his time. 

Next he tried: _How to know if I’m gay?_

The first result was a wikihow and he clicked the link, scrolling through the article with a frown. The information was actually helpful, as wikihow tended to be, and he sat back, staring blindly at the screen.

 _Examine your thoughts and behaviors._

Well, he’d been doing that all day already, and based on his observations he would say yeah, he was at least a little gay.

_Look at pictures of people who are commonly viewed as “attractive” and see which sex arouses you._

He frowned and opened a new tab, fingers hovering over the keys. He couldn’t just search _attractive people_ , but for the life of him he couldn’t think of a single person. When he tried all he could think about was messy, dark curls and too big eyes. His frown deepened and he shoved those thoughts out of his head, grabbing his phone. 

**Eddie:** _who’s your celebrity crush?_

He sent the message to the group chat, hoping no one would ask why he wanted to know. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to ask a random question out of the blue, although Eddie usually wasn’t the one to do so. That was more Bev’s or Richie’s thing, but maybe they would just assume he was bored. 

Bev replied instantly.

 **Bev:** _chris hemsworth is a God Among Men_

She attached a picture of him, shirtless, of course, and Eddie stared at it for a beat too long. He wasn’t sure he liked how big his muscles were, but he could admit the man was beautiful. He just didn't particularly feel like kissing him.

 **Richie:** _you know evans is the superior chris bev_

Eddie's heart did a little stutter, even though he knew it meant nothing. Richie had never had any problem admitting another man was attractive, hell he called Eddie cute all the fucking time. It meant nothing. 

**Ben:** _I don't know guys … Chris Pratt is pretty good too_

 **Ben:** _I liked him in parks and rec_

 _See,_ he told himself. _Even Ben can talk about men being attractive._

**Richie:** _youre just saying that cuz he was chubby_

 **Bev:** _ain't nothing wrong with a chubby man, rich_

 **Bev:** _all the better to cuddle_

 **Bev:** _*kissy face*_

 **Ben:** _*blush emoji*_

 **Richie:** _*sick emoji*_

Eddie loved his friends, but arguing about the hottest Chris (and flirting) wasn’t helping him. Although he had to agree with Richie, of the three, Evans was certainly the most attractive. 

**Stan:** _I like Emma Stone.  
_

Eddie had to look her up, and she _was_ pretty. She kind of reminded him of Beverly, although he would say Bev was the prettier of the two, and like Bev he didn't really feel anything when he looked at her. Not like he felt when ...

 **Richie:** _stan!! forget that_

 **Richie:** _which chris is the hottest???_

Eddie frowned. Of _course_ Richie would steal the conversation and make it his own. Didn’t he realize Eddie had asked his question for a reason? Didn’t he know Eddie was having a crisis because of him?

 **Bill:** _hemsworth_

 **Richie:** _*gasp*_

 **Richie:** _traitor!!_

Eddie dropped his phone as the argument continued, turning back to his computer and tapping his chin. In the end he did google _attractive people_ and the results were … a lot of women. None of them made his heart race or palms sweat, not even the few men sprinkled throughout did much to him. 

The thought of googling porn briefly crossed his mind. The article did say to notice who sexually aroused you, and that was what porn was used for. But even just the thought had his cheeks burning. He couldn’t do that!

In the end he snapped his laptop shut and groaned, burying his face in his comforter. His phone had finally stopped buzzing but his mind hadn’t. He was no closer to knowing, google had failed him. He pulled the comforter over his head, not caring that he was facing the wrong way, that his feet were dangerously close to his pillow, that he still had his laptop on his bed.

He squeezed his eyes shut. There weren’t many movies or shows about gay people, but the ones that were out there made it seem like it was easy. Like you just woke up one day and knew.

Eddie didn’t know anything.

* * *

Eddie spent the next week doing everything but think about his … problem.

He spent the days with his friends. Sometimes it was all of them together, swimming in the quarry or hanging out in the clubhouse. Sometimes it was just a few of them; hanging out with Stan, Richie, and Bill at Bill’s place, getting ice cream with Bev, reading at the library with Ben and Mike. 

The only person he avoided being completely alone with was Richie, and even then it wasn’t _avoiding_. He just … got busy. 

When Bill went to walk Stan home after the movie, Eddie scrambled after them, saying something about his mom needing him home for dinner. When he bumped into Richie on the way back from ice cream he mumbled some excuse about picking up a prescription and practically sprinted down the street. 

“W-wh-what is g-going on with you?” Bill asked him a few days later when it was just the two of them. They were hanging out in Eddie’s room, the door cracked because Sonia never allowed it shut when people were over. 

“What do you mean?” He glanced up from his laptop, pausing the episode to stare at Bill.

Bill was staring back, his expression flat, a single brow arched. 

“Y-you know what I-I mean.”

He did, but he didn’t have to admit that. 

_I’m in love with Richie which means I might be gay and I don’t know what to do about that_.

When he didn’t respond Bill sighed and bumped their shoulders together. They were already pressed against each other, Eddie’s twin-sized bed far too small for both of them, and the bump nearly sent him sprawling off the edge. Bill grabbed his arm, the grip keeping him from falling and pressing him closer to Bill’s side. 

If he was gay, wouldn’t being this close to Bill send his heart racing?

“Whoops, s-s-sorry.” Bill laughed and released Eddie’s arm, patting his shoulder. “But, s-se-seriously, are you o-okay?” His tone was serious, blue eyes seeming to stare straight into Eddie’s soul. “You c-ca-can tell me anything.”

Eddie squirmed under that gaze, sure that Bill would see every one of his secrets.

“I’m fine.” Bill didn’t look convinced and this time Eddie bumped his shoulder with a smile that was just a little too forced. “Let’s finish this episode before my mom kicks you out.” 

He hit play before Bill could say anything else, and pretended like he couldn’t feel Bill watching him still. 

He knew he _should_ be able to tell Bill anything, he was _Big Bill_ after all and Eddie trusted him with his life. But this secret was something he felt like he had to hold on to, at least until he was absolutely sure about it. 

* * *

It was late, Eddie wasn’t sure what the exact time was since he'd knocked his phone off his bed when he tried to grab it. He groaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes, not even sure what he was doing awake. He’d been asleep a moment before … what had changed?

“Romeo, oh Romeo.” The voice was hushed, but Eddie still almost screamed when he realized there was a figure at his window. Then his eyes adjusted and he saw the flash of thick glasses and a bright grin and his fear became a different kind of anxiety. “Wherefore art thou, Romeo?” 

Eddie was out of bed and opening the window before he even had a chance to think about it, his body moving on autopilot. He glared at Richie as the lanky kid gracelessly fell through the window, hitting the floor with a thud. Eddie winced and spared a glance at his door, but it remained shut and no concerned yelling came from down the hall.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Looking for my Romeo, of course.” Richie grinned and sat up, fixing his crooked glasses. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and huffed. “Wouldn’t _you_ be Romeo in this situation?” 

Richie paused for a moment, his smile coming back brighter than before. “Why, I do believe you’re right, Eduardo.” He pulled himself to his feet and Eddie frowned when he moved to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress and patting the spot next to him. 

“You need to leave,” Eddie said, but he sat, shifting slightly so that they had plenty of space between them. 

Richie wasn’t looking at him but down, at the space between them, a small frown tugging at his lips. Eddie didn’t like seeing the frown, it made him twist his fingers together and bite his lip. He wanted to say something, wanted to reach out and run his hands through those dark curls, brush his thumbs over his cheeks. Maybe lean forward and …

He shook his head and blinked in surprise when he realized Richie _was_ looking at him now, staring intently at his face in a way that made him squirm.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie drew back in shock, his mouth parting in a silent gasp. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Richie apologize before, and he wasn’t sure _why_ he even was.

“What?” he repeated, his voice a squawk. 

Richie sighed and ran a hand through his hair, knocking his glasses askew. “You’ve been avoiding me and acting weird lately, and Bev says I need to apologize. I told her I didn’t do anything wrong, but for _some reason_ she didn’t believe me!” He slanted a look at Eddie, his lips twisting with his grin. “So, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t know you knew what those words meant.”

“Hey! I can admit when I’m at fault.” He flashed a bright grin. “It just happens so rarely.”

Eddie laughed, he couldn’t help it. Being with Richie just made him feel so light, even if he was too aware of how close their bare knees were. Richie always smelled like bubblegum and stale cigarettes and the smell should have been gross, but it was so _Richie_ that Eddie loved it.

Eddie loved Richie. 

“Well I accept your apology. Now get out.” He pushed Richie’s shoulder, surprised when Richie easily fell to the ground. Then he realized Richie had grabbed his wrist and his eyes widened as he found himself sprawled across Richie’s chest. 

“I don’t know Eds, I’m pretty comfy. I might just sleep here.” He yawned and stretched his free arm over his head, sliding the other hand from Eddie’s wrist to around his waist and he used his hold to press him close. “You’re better than any blanket.”

Eddie felt the blush go all the way to his toes and he buried his face in Richie’s chest to hide it. “Fuck you, Tozier.”

Richie laughed and Eddie thought he felt the ghost of a kiss brush over his temple.

_Just my imagination._

“Seriously though, I’m _not_ sleeping on the floor.” He pushed himself up, breaking free of Richie’s hold and climbing back into his bed. Any tiredness he’d been feeling before Richie had climbed through the window was gone, but it was still the middle of the night and he had to at least pretend. 

He squeaked in surprise when the bed dipped beside him and then Richie was next to him, long body stretched out over his covers.

“Richie!” he hissed, shoving at the other boy, but Richie just chuckled and threw an arm around Eddie’s waist, pinning him to the bed. “You’re still in your clothes!” He realized what it sounded like the second it left his mouth and the blush was quick to follow. “I mean - you’re not - Pajamas!” 

Richie chuckled and Eddie felt the warmth of it brush against his neck.

“I’m not under the covers, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine! You’re covered in who knows what and now it’s all over my bed!” Eddie huffed, rolling to his side. It brought him face to face with Richie and he frowned. “Why are you here?”

He knew he should push Richie out of his bed and out of his room, but instead he curled his hand in the space between them, breathing a small sigh. He liked the weight of Richie’s arm over his waist, the warmth of him passing through the blankets.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Richie admitted, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. 

“Well I _could._ You woke me up.”

Richie grinned and reached up to brush the back of his hand over Eddie’s cheek. “Sorry, Spaghetti Head, go back to sleep.”

“I’m trying.” But he wasn’t. He knew he should, but he didn’t want to miss a single second of this Richie. The Richie who climbed through his window and apologized when he did nothing wrong. The Richie who held him close in the darkness and didn’t make a joke out of everything.

The Richie that was just Eddie's.

“Want me to sing you a lullaby?” 

“I want you to shut the fuck up.”

Richie chuckled again and Eddie ducked his head to hide his own smile. Richie did start humming, a low sound that reverberated through Eddie’s chest. He didn’t recognize the tune, but it wasn’t long before his eyes began to drift shut, his thoughts going fuzzy. 

He was faintly aware of Richie murmuring something, but he was too far gone to understand the words. He tried to pull himself back out of sleep, but the arm around him was so heavy and so warm and he breathed a final sigh as sleep finally claimed him.

Eddie Kaspbrak was 13 years old and he was in love with Richie Tozier. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good job, Eds!” He wrapped a hand around Eddie’s neck, rubbing his other through his hair. “I knew you could do it!”
> 
> Eddie flushed, his heart climbing up his throat as the warmth of Richie bled through his skin. Richie’s fingers slowed in his hair, stroking through the locks as his arm softened around his shoulder.
> 
> “I couldn’t have done it without you.” His voice was quiet, and he lifted his head to stare up at Richie. Richie gazed back, those big eyes darkening with something that had Eddie’s stomach knotting. 
> 
> Silence fell over them, their breaths mixing in the inches between their faces. Eddie’s eyes dropped to Richie’s mouth and he licked his suddenly dry lips. 
> 
> For a moment, he felt like maybe Richie was about to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Henry is his usual homophobic self.

Eddie Kaspbrak was 14 years old and he was _pretty sure_ he was gay.

It had been six months since the summer of love. Six months since he’d come to terms with his feelings for Richie. Six months since he started questioning his sexuality.

Not much had actually changed in those six months. Richie was still his usual, crude self. Eddie was still his usual, angry self. The two bickered and fought, and some nights Richie would climb through his window and they would curl around each other and sleep, and in the morning Eddie would be alone. 

The biggest change was that they had started high school, but even that wasn’t all that different. It was just like middle school, except there were more people and the classes were just a little harder. The two lunch periods was a bit of a bummer, Ben, Bill, and Mike having the second when the rest had the first, but the semester was quickly drawing to a close and Eddie had hope that the next would have them all together again. 

There was only a week left of classes before winter break, and it was the worst week. The finals week. 

Eddie was doing alright in English, he shared the class with Bill who was practically a genius when it came to the written word. He’d made sure Eddie understood all the material and helped him with every essay they’d had to write. He wasn’t too concerned with that final. 

It was math that he was really worried about. 

He’d never been great at it, but he’d managed to get by. Until algebra, until they decided that math required letters as well as numbers. 

“When the _fuck_ am I ever going to actually need this?” Eddie snarled, wincing and muttering _sorry_ when the librarian shot him a glare. 

Mike glanced up from his own textbook, arching a brow at Eddie’s outburst. They’d decided to study in the library after school, and Eddie was already regretting it. He should’ve taken Beverly up on her offer of sitting in on the drama club’s final rehearsal instead. At least then he’d be having fun. 

He pushed his textbook away from him, dropping his forehead to the table with a quiet thunk. 

“Algebra _sucks_.”

Mike’s chuckle was low and quiet and he reached across the table to pat the back of Eddie’s head. 

“I know, but at least you’ve only got one more week of it.”

“Yeah, until _next_ semester.” Eddie turned his head so his cheek was resting against the table and he could stare out the window at the field. It had snowed so all the sports teams were practicing in the gym today, but there were still dark figures running around outside. He was pretty sure Richie and Bill were two of those figures and the urge to just leave the table and join them almost overwhelmed him. 

“You know, you could ask Richie for help.”

He jerked his head off the table, his back straight and eyes wide in surprise. Had Mike read his thoughts and known he was thinking about Richie?

“He’s good at math, like _really_ good,” Mike added.

“What?”

“Yeah, we’re in the same class. He sleeps through most of the lessons, or messes around on his phone, but I’ve seen his test scores. I don’t think he’s ever gotten less than 90 points.”

“What the _fuck_ ,” Eddie breathed. He couldn’t say he was all that surprised. He knew Richie was smart, but he didn’t realize just how smart. 

“Yeah,” Mike agreed with a nod. 

He frowned, looking back out the window. A face was pressed against the glass, staring back.

He yelped and fell backwards, scowling when Richie doubled over laughing outside. Mike laughed from his spot across the table and Eddie pulled himself to his feet, flipping Mike off and glaring at the boys on the other side. 

Bill waved at them with red cheeks and a dark green scarf covering his mouth, and Richie grinned brightly, his dark curls coated in snow. He breathed on the window and drew a heart in the fog, fluttering his eyelashes at Eddie and Mike. He motioned for them to come outside, but Mike held up his textbook with a shake of his head. Richie turned his gaze to Eddie then, jutting his bottom lip in a pout and giving his best puppy dog eyes.

Eddie glanced at his textbook and the formulas that swam across the page. He knew he should stay inside and cram as much as he could before his test on Wednesday, but he was frustrated and tired and he just _didn’t want to_. 

“Sorry, Mike,” he muttered, slamming his textbook shut and throwing it in his bag. “I wish you luck in your studies, but I accept my fate as a failure.”

Mike laughed and shook his head. “Seriously man, just ask Richie for help.” 

Eddie didn’t bother responding, already heading out the door to join his friends. Math was stupid anyways. When was he ever going to need to know how to calculate the value of x in real life? 

* * *

Eddie was exhausted and his toes were starting to go numb, but he was _happy_. After an epic snowball fight against some other kids in their class they’d decided to try and build a snow fort like they used to, but it was harder than Eddie remembered it being and more than once they ended up with snow collapsing on their heads. 

They were in the remains of their snow fort, not much more than a pile of snow at that point, when Mike and Beverly joined them. Richie was stretched out in the snow, his arms splayed as far as they could go, Bill and Eddie sitting next to each other a few feet away. 

“Did you boys have fun?” Bev asked, crouching beside Richie. She started burying him in the snow, patting it tight against his legs.

“The most!” Richie said.

“I-it was great!” Bill agreed.

“I have snow in _unspeakable_ places,” Eddie groaned. 

Bev laughed and soon Mike was crouched beside her to help her cover Richie. He hummed, smiling widely as his entire body was encased in snow. The only part left exposed was his head, his cheeks red with the cold. 

“I am the snow guardian!” he shouted, his fingers wiggling beneath the weight of snow. 

“Posiedon trembles before him!” Bev bellowed, throwing herself over her work. 

“Fuck off!”

Then they both dissolved into giggles and Mike shook his head, rising to his feet to brush the snow off his butt. 

“We were thinking about heading to the diner for some fries,” he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of said diner. “Wanna come?”

Bill leapt to his feet immediately, his smile bright and excited, and offered his hand to Eddie who rose much slower. He hadn’t been joking when he said he had snow in places he didn’t want to mention, and he could feel it now, freezing against his skin. 

“Thanks, but I have to head home. My mom wants me back by dinner.” 

“Aww,” Bev pouted, hopping to her feet. “We’ll have to hang out soon! I don’t get to see your cute face enough.” She pinched his cheek and Eddie batted her hand away, laughing when she grabbed it and squeezed their fingers together. Her hands still had some of the lingering warmth from inside and he was grateful for it against his frozen digits.

“I’ll be at your play, I promise.” It was Bev’s first performance and he would sneak out if he had to. There was absolutely _no way_ he was missing it.

Her smile softened and she brushed a kiss over the spot she’d pinched.

Behind her snow exploded as Richie leapt to his feet and all of them shrieked, covering their faces to protect them. Eddie ducked behind Bev and Mike stood protectively in front of Bill. Richie gave his body a shake, reminding Eddie of a dog getting out of the water, and then he grinned at his little group of friends. 

“I must regretfully decline the invitation as well, my dear.”

Bev looked at him, arching a brow in accusation. Richie wasn’t one to turn down free food, especially not from the diner. 

“Sorry babe, the parental units require me home.”

“What did you do, Richard?” She planted her hands on her hips and frowned.

“What makes you think _I_ did anything?” 

Everyone just stared at him, Bev with her hands on her hips, Mike with a small smile, and Bill with a shake of his head. 

“Oh shut your face, _Beverly_!” Richie threw his arms in the air and stalked forward a few steps. He threw an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, tugging him away from Bev and closer to Richie’s side. “Eds and I are going to have all the fun on our walk home! Way more fun than you at your stupid diner.”

Eddie hoped they all just assumed his cheeks were red from the cold, not that he could feel it anymore. As soon as Richie touched him his entire body became fire, burning him from the inside out. 

“C’mon Eds, let’s leave these _losers_.”

Richie steered him out of the field and Eddie threw a final look over his shoulder, lifting a hand in a goodbye. 

“You should ask him!” Mike called after them, waiting until they were too far for Eddie to sprint back and tackle him. He laughed when Eddie sputtered and scowled, but Richie didn’t pause his step so neither did Eddie.

“Ask who what?” he asked, peering down at Eddie. “Got a hot date?” 

“What? No! Shut the fuck up!” Eddie shook his head and slid out from under Richie's arm. He immediately missed the warmth, but he was too nervous, sure that Richie would hear or _feel_ his heart pounding in his chest. "I - uh - I need help."

He rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head. He wasn’t sure _why_ he was so nervous. Richie had helped him in class before, it wasn’t anything new. But there was something about the way Richie was staring at him so intently, like he was hanging on to every word. 

“Math!” The word burst from his mouth louder than necessary, practically a shout, and Richie blinked in surprise. “I need help with math!” Eddie’s hands were waving wildly and he curled his fingers into fists, pressing them against his sides. “I have my final on Wednesday, and I’m screwed.”

“Aww Eds.” Richie threw his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again and squeezed him against his side. “I’d rather help you _get_ screwed.”

“Beep beep Richie!” Eddie smacked his side and Richie cackled, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I’m serious! If I fail this class my mom will have my head!” In reality Sonia would probably blame Eddie’s friends, claiming they were bad influences and that they kept him from reaching his full potential. She would try to stop him from seeing them, and he couldn’t have that. 

“Of course I’ll help you, Eddie my love.” He wrapped his arm around Eddie again, and Eddie had to duck his head as the blush threatened to consume him. “Tonight?”

Eddie shook his head. “My mom won’t let me.” He wrung his hands together, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. “Tomorrow? After school?” 

“It’s a date!” Richie squeezed him tight, brushing a kiss over his forehead. “I’ll make you the smartest boy in your class, Eds.”

Eddie huffed, but he couldn’t stop the smile from curling his lips. 

Nor could he stop the way Richie’s words echoed through his head.

_Date. It’s a date._

* * *

Eddie was distracted all the next day.

 _Date. It’s a_ date _. A date with Richie!_

He knew it wasn’t not really, not in the way he wanted it to be. It was a study date, they weren’t going to the movies and sharing popcorn and holding hands in the dark theater. It wasn’t _romantic_.

It was studying. 

He shook his head, ignoring the stinging in his cheek as the final bell echoed through the halls. Bowers had nailed him in the face with a dodgeball during gym, laughing that awful laugh and calling him a _fucking queer_ , too quiet for the teacher to hear. Stan had avenged him almost immediately, his well thrown ball hitting Henry right in the dick. 

“He’s gonna be out for blood now,” Eddie said to Stan as they headed to their lockers after changing. Henry had spent the rest of the period glaring at them, and they’d rushed from the locker room before he had a chance to do anything.

“When isn’t he?” 

Stan had a point, and Eddie was saved from responding by Richie bounding up to them. He squeezed himself between them, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders and shaking them.

“If it isn’t my two favorite boys! Stan the Man! I heard you nailed Bowers in the dick today. You’re a hero!” He raised his hand for a high five and Stan chuckled as he returned it. “Do you need me to walk you home? Keep you safe from Bowers and his cronies?”

Stan shrugged out of his hold with a shake of his head. “No offense, but I’d be safer on my own.”

Richie staggered back with a hand to his chest. “You wound me, Staniel.”

Stan laughed and pulled his backpack higher on his shoulders. “Sorry, but Bowers wants to kill you more than me.” Richie shook his head, but didn’t argue the fact. “Besides, I’m going to Bill’s.”

As if he heard them Bill was suddenly there, smiling at the group of boys.

“Hey guys!”

“Billiam, my boy!” Richie stepped away from Eddie and Stan to rest an arm on Bill’s shoulder. Richie always seemed to have to greet his friends with some kind of touch, and it made Eddie smile. “Did you hear about Stan’s epic takedown of Bowers?”

“I did!” Bill grinned at Stan, holding his fist out for a bump. “Y-you’re the talk of the s-school!” 

Stan flushed and ducked his head, a pleased smile flashing across his face. 

“We should go.” Richie stepped away as Stan took his place by Bill’s side, one hand resting lightly against his arm. “My parents want me back by six.”

Bill nodded and the two said their goodbyes, disappearing down the hall in quiet conversation. Eddie watched them go with a small smile. He loved his friends, and he was so glad he had them watching his back. 

“You ready, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked, linking his arm through Eddie’s. “Professor Tozier is ready for your lesson.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Eddie smacked a hand against his face, earning a muffled laugh in response.

“Almost, I need to grab some stuff from my locker.”

Richie lead the way, his arm staying linked with Eddie’s as they headed down the hall. Eddie listened as Richie told him about his day and the slight explosion he and Ben caused in chemistry. A look from Eddie had him laughing and admitting that it was _mostly_ his fault.

As Eddie closed his locker and turned to Richie, he saw Bowers out of the corner of his eye. Henry was watching them with hot, angry eyes, and Eddie flinched back. Richie stopped talking mid-sentence, glancing over his shoulder to see what had Eddie so spooked. When he saw Henry his eyes narrowed, his arm coming protectively around Eddie.

“Hey Bowers, how’s the dick?” 

Henry flushed and sputtered, his cheeks turning an angry red. “Wouldn’t you like to know, _faggot_.”

Richie snorted, already steering Eddie away. “You couldn’t pay me to think about your dick.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. It’s your little _boyfriend_ who likes balls in his face.”

Eddie’s cheek stung at the memory and he ducked his head, his shoulders tensing under Richie’s arm. This was nothing new, Henry had had it out for them since they were kids, but his homophobic comments were striking new chords.

Did he _know?_

He felt more than saw Richie move. One moment he was standing next to him, steering him away from the jeers, the next the space beside Eddie was empty and Richie had Henry against the locker, arm pressed against his neck.

Eddie rarely saw Richie angry. 

Sure Richie got annoyed sometimes, but he never got _angry_. Yet the Richie pinning Henry to the wall now was. His eyes were cold and hard, his lips curled in a snarl, and he pressed his arm so tight into Henry’s neck that the bully’s face was turning red. 

“Richie.” Eddie’s voice was quiet, _scared_. He wasn’t afraid of Richie, but of what might happen. If a teacher caught them … or one of Henry’s goons. “Richie, c’mon. He’s not … he’s not worth it.”

Richie glared down at Henry, Bowers might have the brawn but Richie already towered over him. 

“You’re a piece of shit.” Richie’s voice was low, almost more of a growl. For a moment he pressed his arm tighter, a cold laugh spilling from his lips as Henry clawed at his skin. Then Eddie was behind him, hands on his shoulders and Richie let himself be pulled away. 

Henry collapsed, gasping for breath, eyes wide and angry. 

“Richie.”

Eddie tugged at his sleeve and finally Richie turned away, throwing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders as he went.

“Yeah! Run away with your little boyfriend! You’re nothing but a fag!” Henry yelled after them, voice hoarse. 

“And yet I still get more dates than _you!_ ” Richie flipped the bird, not bothering to look behind him as they pushed out the door and into the winter chill. Eddie was watching Richie close, watching as the anger slowly bled out of his eyes and leaked from his shoulders. 

When they were about halfway to his house he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have let him rile me up like that.”

“It’s fine.” Eddie cautiously reached out and twined his fingers through Richie’s. “He deserved it.”

Eddie didn’t ask why this time riled him up so much when Henry had been doing this to them forever, he just squeezed Richie’s hand and leaned against his side. A small warmth filled his chest as he did.

Richie might not have been _just_ protecting him, but he could pretend. 

* * *

Eddie loved going to Richie’s house. It always smelled like delicious food and clean clothes. The walls were lined with family photos; a young Richie grinning at the lake, all three of them standing in front of a statue, and one of the Losers on Halloween. 

It felt like _home_. 

“Oh, Eddie!” Mrs. Tozier came out of the kitchen, her smile wide and bright, just like her son’s. 

“Hello, Mrs. Tozier,” Eddie murmured as he slipped out of his shoes.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Maggie, dear?” She scolded, but she was still smiling, already holding her arms out for a hug. “Mrs. Tozier makes me feel so old.”

Eddie chuckled and let himself be embraced, breathing in the floral scent of Maggie. Her hug was warm, and it made him feel safe, like a mother’s hug should.

“Maybe that’s ‘cause you _are_ old, Mom,” Richie said with a cackle, kicking his own shoes off far less gently than Eddie had. Any sign of the anger he’d experienced earlier was gone, replaced with his wide smile as he looked at his mom. She tsked her tongue and stepped away from Eddie, her hands going to her hips.

“Richard.” Her voice was full of warning, but her face was smiling and he laughed again, bounding forward a step to press a wet kiss to her cheek. He grabbed Eddie’s wrist as he passed and tugged him towards the back of the house. 

“We’re gonna study in my room,” he called over his shoulder. 

“Dinner will be ready at five!” 

Richie raised his hand to show he heard and then they were in his room and the door was shut behind them. Eddie paused just inside, his eyes sweeping the room.

Richie’s room was always a mess, but an _organized_ mess. He had clothes on the ground and papers spread throughout, his desk was piled with dishes that he hadn’t managed to get to the kitchen yet, and the wastebasket he had by his bed was overflowing with empty chip bags.

“Make yourself at home,” Richie said, throwing himself into the desk chair and spinning slightly. Eddie stepped over a pile of clothes to sit on the edge of the bed, drawing his backpack into his lap. 

“So,” Eddie said, suddenly nervous. His fingers curled around the edge of his textbook as he pulled it out of his bag, and he kept his eyes on his hands. His heart was fluttering far too fast against his ribs and all he could think about was the fact that he _was on Richie’s bed!_ “Algebra!” 

Richie arched his brows at Eddie’s volume, but pushed against his desk, rolling the chair closer to the bed. He grabbed the textbook out of Eddie’s hands, their fingers brushed when he did, sending electric sparks dancing up his arm.

“Algebra,” Richie agreed. He flipped through the book, humming quietly as his eyes danced across the pages. “What are you stuck on?”

Eddie groaned and fell back to the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. “Everything! It makes no sense. Why are there letters? It’s _math!_ ”

Richie chuckled, shifting off the chair to sit next to Eddie on the bed. They were close, _too_ close, with their legs pressed together from hip to knee. Eddie fought the urge to toss his leg over Richie’s and curl around him, instead pressing his hands against his suddenly warm face. 

“Okay, then how about we focus on what’s gonna be on the test.” Eddie glanced at Richie, watching as he skimmed the book, jotting down practice questions as he went. His tongue was just barely sticking out, resting softly against his bottom lip.

He jerked his gaze away when Richie looked down at him, hoping he hadn’t gotten caught staring. Richie grabbed his arm and tugged him into a seat, pressing his their shoulders together as he set the notebook in their laps. 

Eddie was surprised at how easy it was to understand under Richie’s tutelage. He kept his jokes to a minimum, instead focusing on making sure Eddie was understanding the material. It wasn’t long until Eddie had the entire practice sheet filled out and was doing the problems on his own. 

He grinned when he got the last one finished, holding the notebook up victoriously. Richie was watching him, chin resting in his palm with a soft smile playing at his lips. He took the notebook from Eddie to check his work, his smile growing when he reached the end of the page.

“Good job, Eds!” He wrapped a hand around Eddie’s neck, rubbing his other through his hair. “I knew you could do it!”

Eddie flushed, his heart climbing up his throat as the warmth of Richie bled through his skin. Richie’s fingers slowed in his hair, stroking through the locks as his arm softened around his shoulder.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” His voice was quiet, and he lifted his head to stare up at Richie. Richie gazed back, those big eyes darkening with something that had Eddie’s stomach knotting. 

Silence fell over them, their breaths mixing in the inches between their faces. Eddie’s eyes dropped to Richie’s mouth and he licked his suddenly dry lips. 

For a moment, he felt like maybe Richie was about to kiss him.

Then there was a knock on the door and Eddie threw himself backwards, head slamming against the headboard. He winced and Richie blinked slowly, seeming to shake himself.

Maggie cracked the door open, poking her head in with a smile. “Dinner is ready,” she said, looking between the boys on the bed. Eddie hoped his blush wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “Will you be staying, Eddie?” 

“Uh.” He wanted to. He loved eating with the Toziers, the meal was always full of life and laughter, nothing like the silent affairs at his own home, but something hot curled in his stomach at the thought of sitting with them all. Like they would know what he’d been thinking just moments before, like they would hate him for it.

Henry’s words echoed through his head and he practically leapt to his feet.

“I think I should head home,” he said, his words coming out too high and too fast. Maggie’s forehead creased and he shook his head. “My mom, she’ll be expecting me.”

He shoved his books back into his bag, not sparing a glance at Richie as he followed Maggie back to the door. She gave him another hug and made him promise to come by for dinner soon. He called a goodbye to Went who was already sitting at the dinner table, and then he was out the door, his feet pounding against the street in time to his heart.

Richie _hadn’t_ been about to kiss him. Eddie had just been projecting his own fantasies onto his friend. It was no wonder he’d gotten so pissed when Bowers had called Eddie his boyfriend. He didn’t want people thinking they were gay, that _he_ was gay, and yet there was Eddie … thinking about kissing him.

Eddie gasped in a breath, but it didn’t seem to reach his lungs. He patted his pockets for his inhaler, only then realizing he’d left it at home. Ever since Mr. Keene had told him about the placebos two years ago he’d been trying to wean himself off it. Now he wished he’d never learned. 

He shook his head and was practically running by the time he got home. He slammed through the door, glad that his mother seemed to be distracted by the TV. He wasn’t sure how he would explain his frazzled appearance, and he took the stairs two at a time before she could realize he was there. He closed the bathroom door quietly behind him, grabbing his spare inhaler and taking one pump, two pumps, three. By the third his breathing began to even out and he released a shaky breath, gripping the sides of the sink with white knuckles.

Wild eyes stared back at him from the mirror, cheeks flush with embarrassment and anxiety, hair a wild mess from running. He smacked a hand against his cheek, shaking his head and the thoughts out of them.

What was he doing? What was he _thinking?_

He took a few shallow breaths before splashing some cold water on his face. He needed help. He needed to talk to someone.

He cautiously crept out of the bathroom, glancing down the stairs. The TV still droned in the living room and his mother’s laughter drifted up, mixing with the laugh track. When he was sure she wasn’t gonna come check on him he slipped into his room, the door clicking shut behind him.

His phone was a heavy weight in his hands as he stared down at it. Who could he call? What could he even say?

He imagined calling Bill and spilling everything, but practically flinched at the idea. He loved Bill, and he knew Bill loved him, but they didn’t exactly talk about things like relationships. He knew Bill had a crush on Bev, but _everyone_ knew that. It wasn’t something they talked about.

He briefly thought about Stan, maybe his more logical brain would help Eddie work through his emotions. But although Stan _probably_ wouldn’t judge him, he wasn’t sure they were _that_ close.

Before he realized what he was doing, his fingers tapped a picture without choosing to. The phone started to ring in his hand and by the second he’d almost convinced himself to hang up.

“Eddie?” Bev’s voice was breathless, like she’d had to run to catch the phone. 

“Oh, uh, Bev, hi.”

“Eddie, is something wrong?” He could hear the concern in her voice and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. Bev loved him, and Bev would _never_ judge him.

“What? No. I just …” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, stretching forward to press his forehead against his bed. “Actually yeah. I kind of … I just need someone to talk to.”

“I’ll be right over.”

There was a knock on his door ten minutes later and he sprinted down the stairs before his mother could answer. If she saw who was there she would just slam the door in Bev’s face, maybe lock it behind her. 

“Eddie-bear, who is it?” Sonia called from the living room. He could hear the groan of her armchair as she started to push herself to her feet.

“It’s Beverly, ma. She’s here to help me with a history project!” He ushered her up the stairs before his mom could get her feet under her and force her out. Sonia didn’t like most of his friends, but she especially hated Beverly. The _dirty girl_. 

“Keep the door open!” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, leaving a crack in the door. Bev breathed a laugh and looked around his room, sitting gingerly on the edge of his bed.

“So, what’s up?” She patted the bed beside her and he fell to it with a sigh. 

He wasn’t really sure how to broach the subject. Did he just come out and say it? Did he start with realizing his feelings for Richie? Did he start with the confrontation with Bowers? Bev and him were close, but they weren’t _best friends_. Was she even the right person to talk to about this?

He froze when her hand touched his knee, a feather light brush. “Eddie, it’s okay. Whatever you have to say, I won’t judge. I’ll just listen.”

Her eyes were so big and so caring and he believed her. 

“IthinkI’mgay.” 

“Oh.”

They both fell silent, Eddie looking at his hands and Bev looking out the window. She was going to tell him he was disgusting. That she never wanted to see him again. She was going to tell all their friends and he was going to be shunned. He shouldn’t have said anything! 

Then she shifted, turning her body to face him, one knee curling on the bed. Her fingers touched his thigh first, then rested lightly over his hands. He didn’t want to look at her face, didn’t want to see whatever emotions she might be showing, but he couldn’t seem to stop his eyes from lifting to hers.

She smiled at him, those eyes so warm and full of love, and squeezed his fingers.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“You don’t think it’s … disgusting? You don’t hate me.”

She shook her head. “Eddie, short of murder, and even then it really depends on who you kill, there is _nothing_ you could do that would make me hate you.” She squeezed his hands again, this time slipping her fingers through his. 

He stared down at their joined hands, a small frown curling at his lips. 

“I might not be,” he admitted, raising his gaze again. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” She paused and nibbled on her bottom lip. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I … I don’t know. I just …” He sighed and shook his head. “It started last year, and I tried googling and google failed me so I figured I would just … ignore it, but then today …” He shook his head again. “Bowers said some shit, and Richie got mad, and then we were at his house studying and there was a _moment_.” His eyes searched Bev’s and he drew the warmth he saw in them in like air. “I had a panic attack and I just ran away.”

“And then you called me?”

He nodded. “I don’t know why. I guess I just felt like maybe you would be the most understanding.”

She smiled and leaned towards him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “I’m glad you thought of me.” 

They were silent again, a comfortable silence as Eddie let it all sink in. He’d said it out loud and Bev had listened and she hadn’t run or laughed. She didn’t hate him or think he was sick.

“I’m bisexual.” 

He blinked and glanced down at her, she was staring out the window, one hand still wrapped in Eddie’s, the other picking at the hem of her shirt. 

“How do you know?” 

“One day I was watching a movie and realized that I was just as into the girl as I was the boy,” she said with a shrug and a small laugh. 

“Just like that?” 

She nodded and he sighed. 

“I wish it was that easy.”

She shifted again, turning to fully sit on the bed, her legs crossed in front of her. Eddie mirrored her pose, their hands staying intertwined between them. 

“What has you confused? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He gnawed on his bottom lip, staring at their hands. Bev’s fingers were so soft, the nails painted a deep red, chipped and falling off but still beautiful. 

“I don’t know if I like girls,” he admitted, the words getting caught in his throat. Saying it out loud made it _real_ , and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. It was one thing to think he _might be_ gay, but it was another to accept that he wasn’t into girls at all. “I mean … I’ve tried to think about it, if I find them cute or pretty, if I want to kiss them. But there’s really only one boy I want to kiss and I haven’t ever kissed _anyone_ so I just …” He lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I don’t know if I’d like it. Any of it.”

She nodded, her lips quirking with a smile. 

“You know, we could kiss.”

He jerked back in surprise, mouth opening and closing with no sound. 

“Only if you want to,” she hurried to say. “It’s just … maybe having a base would help? If you knew what it was like to kiss someone, then maybe you’ll be able to imagine it better. Or maybe you’ll realize that you don’t like kissing at all.”

“Is that possible?” His eyes widened and she smiled softly.

“There are a lot of sexualities out there, things aren’t just black and white. I know this might not be what you want to hear, but … it’s not just gay and straight with bisexual between.”

“Oh.”

It made him feel better, but it also made him feel like the ground was opening up and swallowing him. He could understand being gay, or bisexual, but something else … something unknown. It was terrifying. 

“What if I don’t?” She stared at him, her eyes questioning. “Like kissing,” he explained. “What if I don’t like it?”

“Then you don’t like it.” She squeezed his fingers, her smile soft as she leaned forward. “I know this is Derry, and I know it’s hard to accept things about yourself, especially with dickwads like Henry around. But being gay, or bi, or ace, or whatever you might end up being is _normal_.”

He breathed a shaky sigh, lifting his gaze to hers.

“Okay,” he said. 

“Okay?”

“Let’s try it. Let’s try … kissing.” He flushed just at the thought, ducking his head again. “If you want to. I don’t want to … force you or anything.”

She breathed a laugh, lifting one hand to his cheek, fingers pressing soft against the skin. “You aren’t the first Loser I’ve kissed.”

 _Have you kissed Richie?_ The question bubbled and threatened to spill out, but he bit it back. It was none of his business who Bev had or hadn’t kissed. 

“We only have to do this if you really want to,” she said, eyes searching his face. 

“I … I want to.” 

She stared at him and he stared back, their breaths mingling. He suddenly flashed back to Richie’s room, to the warmth of the body pressed against his, to the way Richie’s eyes had looked as he’d stared down at Eddie. 

Bev didn’t look like that. Her eyes weren’t heated, but warm, her mouth slightly parted as she leaned forward and closed the distance between them. 

He barely breathed as their lips pressed together. Her mouth was soft, her breath warm, and there was the faintest taste of strawberry and cigarettes. It was … _nice_. He liked the feeling, but there was no heat stirring in his stomach, no need to pull her closer. 

When she drew back they just stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“So?” 

“So.”

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, dropping his gaze to his lap. 

“It was nice.”

She laughed, dropping her hand back to the bed and leaning back.

“Just nice?”

He flushed. “I mean … it was good. You’re … soft.”

“But?” she prompted, nudging his knee with her toes.

He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “But it was like kissing a family member! When I think about kissing Ri-” He cut off suddenly, eyes widening as he realized what he was admitting.

Bev laughed and squeezed his knee. “Eddie, it’s okay. I kind of figured you like Richie.”

His cheeks flamed and he wished the ground would swallow him whole. “I don’t know what to do! When I’m with him I feel like I’m drowning, and today! Today I thought … I thought he was going to kiss me.”

“And you wanted him to.” It wasn’t a question, but Eddie nodded anyways.

“I really did.” He fell back on the bed, pressing his palms into his eyes. “When we kissed just now, all I could think about was what it would be like if you were Richie.” He peered up at Bev from between his fingers. “I think I _am_ gay.”

She laughed, shifting to lay on the bed next to him. “At least gay for Richie.” She bumped his shoulder with another laugh and he groaned. 

“What am I going to do?”

She hummed and stared up at the ceiling. “Honestly? You should tell Richie.”

He sat up so fast he almost got light headed, staring down at Beverly with wide eyes. “What? Are you crazy? Richie will never talk to me again if I told him!”

She looked up at him, something passing behind her eyes. “I think you might be surprised.”

He shook his head wildly. “No, no way. I can’t tell Richie. _You_ can’t tell Richie. He can’t know. _No one_ can know!” His breath was coming too fast again and Bev sat up, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

“Relax, just breathe. I won’t tell _anyone_. I promise.” She grabbed his hand, pressing it to her chest as she took a deep breath in, and he breathed with her. “I love you, Eddie, so do the rest of the Losers. Nothing will change that.”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, letting the sound of her breath wash over him, _through_ him. 

“I’m gay.” Saying it out loud made it _real_ , made it _scary_ , but it also felt like a weight lifting from his chest. His breath came a little easier, and when he opened his eyes he could meet Beverly’s with a smile. “I’m fucking gay.”

She laughed, her smile bright as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. 

“I’m proud of you.” 

Warmth settled heavy in his chest and he hugged her back, burying his face against her neck. 

Eddie Kaspbrak was 14 years old and he was gay.

And that was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for this to be over 6000 words but sometimes that's just how it is ... I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I like writing it!
> 
> also friendly reminder you can request fics or just say hi on my writing Tumblr appleoctopie.tumblr.com !!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Richie.” Eddie’s voice was a sigh, his smile genuine. “I was just thinking about finding you.”
> 
> “Aw Eds, getting cold feet?”
> 
> Eddie rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head. “Actually … yeah.” 
> 
> Richie’s fingers replaced his own, his hand hot and heavy against his skin. Eddie tried not to melt at the touch, but then those long fingers began massaging the tense muscles and he breathed a sigh. 
> 
> “No one’s making you go,” Richie murmured, his head dipped into Eddie’s space. Eddie looked up into his eyes, and it was like they were the only two people in the world. “If you’re only doing it because Bev guilted you into it, then don’t. But if this is something you think you might enjoy, even a little bit, you gotta at least try. You can’t let your anxiety make all your choices for you.”
> 
> Richie’s gaze was warm and earnest, his hand a comforting weight, and Eddie sighed again.

Eddie Kaspbrak was 15 years old and he was going to _kill_ Richie Tozier.

He slammed into the clubhouse, practically leaping down the ladder. It was mid-September and summer was still clinging to the Earth with warm, heavy air, practically turning the clubhouse into a sauna. He scanned the small space, noting which friends were here and which weren’t.

Mike was in the hammock, limbs hanging out the sides. He looked like he’d melted, barely managing to do more than raise a finger in greeting.

Stan was in a chair in the corner, a textbook open in his lap. He was tapping an irregular tune against his notebook, brow furrowed in concentration. 

Beverly was on the ground and looked up from her phone at his entrance, a cigarette dangling from her lips. When she saw Eddie she snuffed it out in the dirt next to her, flashing a smile in his direction. The smile quickly vanished when she took in his state.

“Hi Eddie,” she said, her tone cautious. Like one might sound when speaking to a rabid animal. “What happened to you?”

He was panting, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breath, and he was absolutely _drenched_ in mud. 

“Richie _fucking_ Tozier is what happened!” His voice was too loud for such a small space and Stan flinched, looking up from his homework with a frown. His mouth was open, ready to admonish Eddie, but when he actually saw the other boy he froze.

“What the fuck.” 

Eddie narrowed a glare on him, even though it wasn’t his fault in any way. It was _all_ Richie.

“Richie!” he snapped. “The motherfucking _asshole!_ He pushed me! Into! Mud!” 

Eddie stomped towards the little cupboard Ben had built into the wall, grabbing one of the towels that they always kept down there for rainy days. Thankfully the mud hadn’t fully dried yet, seeing as he’d been pushed into it only minutes before. Unfortunately that meant the boy who had done the pushing was close behind.

“Eddie! Eddie Spaghetti! Eds! I’m sorry!” Richie half tumbled down the ladder, landing in a not so graceful heap on the ground. He pulled himself up and fixed his glasses, ignoring the other Losers to focus his attention on Eddie. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t _mean to_?” Eddie shrieked, whirling on Richie with a snarl. “You pushed me into mud, Trashmouth! Mud!” He thrust a hand in Richie’s direction, some of said mud flying off to splat against Mike’s arm.

Mike, who had been ignoring the entire scene in favor of probably just pretending like it wasn’t happening, finally opened his eyes to stare at the two boys. 

“It was an accident!” 

“How do you push someone into mud on _accident!?_ ” 

“It was just supposed to be a friendly shove! You know two guys just palling around! You weren’t supposed to roll down the hill!” Bev flinched at that, pushing herself to her feet to move to Eddie’s side. “And I _swear_ I didn’t know about the mud puddle!” 

“Richie, maybe you should just be quiet,” Stan said from his spot in the corner, homework forgotten in his lap. 

“You pushed Eddie down a hill?” Mike asked, looking between Eddie and Richie with arched brows, concern clear in his eyes.

“Accident!” Richie yelled, throwing his arms in the air. “Is no one hearing that it was an accident!”

Bev wiped at Eddie’s face with the towel, but the mud had finally started to dry and she could only get a little bit off without scrubbing his skin raw. She frowned and squeezed his cheeks, turning his head to stare at something on his face.

“You’re bleeding.”

The noise that came out of Eddie’s throat was somewhere between a scream and a moan. He stalked towards Richie, brushing Beverly’s concerned hands away as he glared at the taller boy. If looks could kill, Richie would be dead and buried.

“I swear to all that is holy, if I get an infection because of _you_ -” He jerked a finger at Richie, the finger connecting with his chest hard enough to bruise. “-then I will haunt you until your dying day, and I will _make sure_ that day comes sooner rather than later.”

Richie’s eyes were big and sorry, and Eddie would have felt bad if it weren’t for the mud slowly caking itself to his skin. 

“Eds.” His voice was a whine and Eddie hissed, pressing his full hand against Richie’s chest and shoving until he moved out of the way.

“I’m going home, and I’m going to shower!”

“But we were gonna-” Richie stopped talking when Eddie narrowed his glare on him.

“You can get milkshakes with Mike or Stan. I’m not talking to you.”

Eddie huffed and climbed up the ladder, ignoring the whined _Eddie_ that followed him.

* * *

“Richie is pouting.”

“Good, let him pout.” Eddie shifted the phone between shoulders as he dressed. His hair was still dripping, and he had fresh band-aids on a few scratches. None of them were too deep, but he couldn’t stop the worry from curling in his belly. What if he hadn’t cleaned them well enough? He could practically _feel_ the mud coursing through his veins. 

“Eddie, it really was an accident.”

“I don’t _care_ , Beverly. I’m allowed to be mad.”

Her sigh was audible over the phone and he shook his head, pulling on his favorite pair of shorts. 

“Will you at least be mad at milkshakes? I bet you could get Richie to pay for you.”

He hummed in thought. He didn’t really _want_ to see Richie. He could still feel the mud squelching between his toes with every step, could still see the water running brown as he stood under the spray. It might have been an accident, but it had ruined his _entire day_. He had been looking forward to milkshakes!

His phone buzzed and he pulled it away from his ear, opening the snap from Bev.

It was a picture of Richie, staring forlornly down at his strawberry milkshake, mouth curved down in a pout. Stan was rolling his eyes beside him, and Mike had a hand on his shoulder. 

Bev had captioned it with the broken heart emoji.

“Okay, fine,” Eddie agreed, bringing the phone back to his ear. “But he owes me a shake _and_ fries.”

“Deal. See you soon.”

He hung up and shook his head, looking at the snap again before closing it. He didn’t like seeing Richie without a smile, it felt unnatural, and knowing he was the reason for it …

He slid his phone into his pocket as he pulled on socks and headed for the door. His mom was gone for once, trying out a book club with some of the neighborhood ladies. He had a feeling it wouldn’t last very long, but he was appreciating his freedom while he had it. 

Bev was the first one to see him when he entered the diner, rising up on her knees to wave him over. The other three in the booth looked up as he approached, Mike and Stan greeting him with smiles, Richie staring at him with hopeful eyes. It made him think of a puppy and he sighed as he slid into the booth beside Bev.

“So,” he said, resting his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. “You’re going to buy my food right?”

Richie’s entire face changed, his smile so bright it was blinding as he seemed to bounce in his seat. If he had a tail it would be wagging.

“Yeah! Went paid me a little extra for cleaning the garage last weekend. Just call me your sugar daddy.” He winked, earning a disgusted groan from Stan.

“You should make him buy you a new outfit,” Stan said, sipping his vanilla shake. 

“Only if I get to choose. I’m thinking something with satin.” Richie waggled his eyebrows and Eddie fought the blush that tried to climb up his neck at the thought. 

“I think we’ll start with the food.”

Bev was smiling as she watched them and Eddie made a face. Ever since he’d come out to her she’d taken a special interest in his interactions with Richie. She never said or did anything, but he could practically _feel_ her thoughts as she watched them. 

_You should tell him_.

“So, Mike!” Eddie turned his attention away from Richie as he waved down the waitress. “Are you really going to try out for _football_?”

Mike rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head, playing with the straw in his root beer float. “I was thinking about it, for next year.”

“ _Why?_ ” Eddie wasn’t trying to be rude, he just honestly could not understand why anyone would want to play any sport, but especially football. All you did was run around and get concussions, it seemed neither fun nor safe. 

Mike shrugged, the corner of his mouth twisted with a half smile. “My dad wants me to try out for a sport, and football just makes sense.”

Stan leaned forward to peer past Richie. “Do _you_ want to play it though?”

“I don’t know,” Mike admitted. “I don’t really _want_ to play any of the sports, but I enjoy watching football so …” He trailed off with another shrug. “Might as well try.”

“Well, I promise we’ll go to all your games if you make the team next year,” Bev said, reaching across the table to pat the back of Mike’s hand.

“Hey! I’m making no such promise.” Richie threw an arm around Mike’s shoulders and shook him. “I love you Mikey, but football is _boring_.”

“Richie,” Bev admonished. “We need to support our friend.”

“What? You want me to dress up like a cheerleader? Better yet, maybe I should _join_ the squad. I bet I’d look great in one of those skirts!” 

Eddie nearly choked on his milkshake, Bev patting his back as he coughed to clear his airways.

“Eds! You could join too! We already know you have killer legs.”

“I would rather go swimming in the sewers.” 

Stan shuddered at the thought, pushing his empty glass away.

Bev hummed beside him, tapping a finger to her chin. “I don’t know, Richie might have a point.”

“Hah!” Richie threw his arms in the air and Eddie smacked him in the face with a fry. Richie just laughed and popped the fry into his mouth, grinning as he chewed. “If Bev agrees then this is clearly a good idea.”

Bev rolled her eyes, stealing her own fry from Eddie’s basket. “I didn’t mean the cheerleading itself, but … Eddie you should try out for something.”

Eddie stared at Bev and she stared back, her smile sweet and calculating.

“Why in the fuck would I do that?”

“Extracurriculars are good.”

“I hate sports!”

“It doesn’t have to be a sport. You could do drama club with me!” Her eyes lit up as the idea really started rolling. “There’s debate, you love arguing with Richie. Oh! Or you could try out for dance!” She was really excited now, and Eddie’s eyes widened as looked around the table for help.

Stan had pulled his homework out, Richie was nodding along with bright eyes, and Mike was watching it enfold with a small smile.

No help there.

“I don’t think so.” Eddie shook his head and pulled his milkshake closer to himself, like it might shield him from Bev, but she just leaned closer, her hands gripping his arm.

“I’m serious, Eddie. It could be good for you.”

“Yeah, Eds! I could be your partner, and you could lead me around the ballroom in an elegant waltz.”

“Why would Eddie be the one leading?” Mike asked, and Eddie flashed a glare in his direction.

“Because, Michael, I am a _lady_.”

Stan snorted, not looking up from his book, and Mike smirked.

“Oh? Does that mean you’ll be in the proper attire?” 

“Of course. Only the most elegant dresses, with the biggest hoops imaginable.”

Eddie groaned and dropped his head in his hands. Bev rubbed his back with a soft chuckle.

“Okay, so maybe not dance. But I do think you should take a look at the clubs. If Mike _does_ do football next year then you’ll be the only one without an after school activity, and I don’t want you to get lonely.”

Her eyes were so earnest, so caring. It was hard to feel anything but love when looking at Beverly. 

“What? Richie isn’t in a club!”

Richie grinned, leaning back in the booth to stretch his arms along the back. “No, but I’m learning guitar. Hoping to start a band next year.”

Eddie blinked in surprise. He’d seen the guitar in Richie’s room, but he just assumed it was a … decoration. How long had Richie been studying? Why hadn’t Eddie known?

He frowned, dropping his gaze to his mostly empty basket of fries. “Oh.” Bev squeezed his shoulder. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You could join football with me,” Mike offered. The table fell silent for a beat before everyone erupted in laughter, even Stan. Eddie would be offended, but just the thought of him stepping foot on a football field was hilarious. 

“Thanks Mike, but I think I’ll keep my options open.”

Bev hummed with a happy smile, stealing another fry before leaning back in her seat. Eddie stabbed at his milkshake with his straw.

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

* * *

It was, in fact, _that bad_.

Bev had given him a week to look on his own, and when he came up with nothing she pounced. 

They were in his room, the door open the required three inches, tangled on his bed with a school catalogue in front of them. She had highlighted a few clubs that she thought he might like, but as he flipped through the pages, all he could do was frown. 

“How is that even a club?” He stared at the listing for _Nap Club_ , his eyebrows crawling up his forehead. It wasn’t one that she’d highlighted, but it had still drawn his eye. The description was only one sentence; _If you like napping, then this is the place for you!_

“The principal is pretty lax on things. I think he’d call anything a club as long as it keeps the kids out of trouble. Of course … nap club is pretty much a front for the stoners to get high.”

Eddie couldn’t say he was surprised. “Sounds like the perfect place for Richie.”

Bev laughed and bumped his shoulder and they continued browsing. 

“What about art?” Bev asked. There was a Drawing Club, a Painting Club, a _Sculpting_ Club, and just a general Art Club.

Eddie hummed, skimming the descriptions for each. He wasn’t great at art, not like Bill and Bev, but he spent enough time doodling that he liked to think he had _some_ skill. Not enough for an actual drawing club, but maybe …

Bev could clearly see his thoughts because her grin was bright as she threw her arm around his shoulders and squeezed him close.

“Little Eddie, being an artist. It fits.”

He tried to imagine it. A sketchbook and pencils, charcoal covered fingers, capturing his feelings in the form of pictures. He imagined his overalls, covered in paint stains, and an easel propped up by his window. 

He imagined it, and he liked it.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Yeah, I think it does.”

Bev smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. “So, Monday …” She trailed off, not needing to finish her thought.

“Yeah, Monday.”

Monday, he would try and join Art Club.

* * *

It turned out joining a club was pretty easy. He’d gone to Mrs. Peters' classroom at lunch, Richie had tried to tag along but Bev had yanked him outside for a smoke. Eddie was glad for that, he loved Richie, but he was already nervous enough, and one wrong joke would have him running for the hills

Mrs. Peters was an older woman with dark hair speckled with gray and laugh lines etched into her face. Eddie had wrung his hands together and stuttered out his interest in art club, and she had smiled a warm smile that made him think of fresh baked cookies and hugs. She’d told him they meet every Wednesday after school, that all he needed to do was show up if he was interested. She said they had supplies, but if he had his own he could certainly bring them. 

She told him to her Laura. 

He thanked her and ran from the room as soon as he could, his heart thudding too fast, his smile bright. He was _excited_. 

He nearly ran straight into Richie.

“Woah! Maybe you should be trying out for track, Eddie darling.” Richie's hands were warm and big, resting lightly against his waist, and Eddie flushed. He ducked his head, the scent of cigarettes and Bev's lavender body spray filling his nose. “I'm sure Ben would enjoy the company, and you’ve certainly got the legs for it.”

“I never realized you were such a leg man.”

“Only for you, baby.” Richie winked and Eddie laughed and smacked his chest, unable to keep the smile off his face. 

He felt _good_. 

He was trying something new _and_ Richie still hadn’t dropped his hands from around his waist. If they were dating, now would be the time when he reached up and wrapped those curls around his fingers to bring their faces closer together until their lips finally met.

But they weren’t dating. They were just friends.

His good mood sank ever so slightly and he stepped out of Richie’s reach, his smile dimming.

“The club meets every Wednesday,” he said as they started heading towards the cafeteria. “Apparently all I have to do is show up and I’ll be a member.”

Richie laughed, dropping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. When Eddie had asked why he did that all the time, Richie had laughed and said it was because Eddie was the perfect height for an arm rest. Eddie had pushed him away at that, but hadn’t been able to stop the warmth from growing in his chest. 

“That means we won’t be able to go home together on Wednesdays.” Richie’s bottom lip jutted out with an exaggerated pout, making Eddie chuckle. “What am I going to do with myself?”

They’d arrived in the cafeteria and Richie threw himself into a chair, head thrown over the back as he sighed.

“Eddie!” Bev grinned when he took his seat next to Richie, pulling his lunchbox out of his bag. It was an old one, from when he was a kid with faded images of the Scooby gang on it, but it did its job.

He handed Richie the extra sandwich he packed, and an apple. Richie accepted the sandwich, but didn’t touch the apple. 

“Hey Bev.” This semester the lunch was just the three of them and Stan. He looked around for their other friend, a small frown creasing his brow. “Where’s Stan?”

Bev waved her hand, grabbing the apple that Richie ignored. “He said something about studying in the library.” She took a bite out of the apple, the crunch practically deafening. 

Richie hummed around his mouthful of sandwich, thankfully swallowing the food before saying anything. “Eds is leaving me!” 

Bev arched a brow and Eddie flushed. 

“Every Wednesday, I will have to go home, _all alone_.”

“Oh wow, you poor thing.” Bev reached across the table to pat the back of Richie’s hand. “How are you ever going to survive?”

“I don’t know!” Richie cried, throwing himself at Eddie. He wrapped his arms around Eddie and buried his face against his neck. Eddie didn’t imagine it was comfortable, what with the arm of the chair probably digging into his stomach, but Richie didn’t seem to notice. He just continued fake sobbing. “What am I going to do without you Eddie my love?”

The look Bev gave him spoke volumes and he rolled his eyes, awkwardly patting Richie’s shoulder. 

“It’s _one_ day, I think you’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that!”

Richie slid out of his chair, but refused to let go of Eddie and ended up on the floor with his head pressed to Eddie’s thigh, his body mostly under the table.

“Richie, that floor is disgusting,” Bev said, kicking him lightly with her toe.

“It’s where I belong!”

Eddie sighed and continued eating his lunch, but the weight of Bev’s gaze was unbearable, and he couldn’t focus on anything but the warmth of Richie pressed against his legs. 

_“Tell him,”_ she mouthed.

He shook his head and she huffed. 

“Richie, hey Richie.” He rested a hand on Richie’s head, fingers softly stroking through the curls. “How about I come hang out with you _after_ club on Wednesdays?” 

He hung out with Richie regularly anyways, but they’d never made a date of it.

 _A date_.

Richie lifted his head, his eyes meeting Eddie’s. There was laughter sparkling in the blue depths, but he kept his face schooled in a pout. “I’d still have to walk home alone.”

“You have other friends.”

“Yeah, Richie,” Bev said, nudging him with a toe again. “I’m sure Bill would love to walk with you. You two live closer together anyways.”

“Bill’s _boring_. He doesn’t get all flustered and annoyed like Eddie does.”

Eddie huffed and tugged at Richie’s hair, grinning with the other boy winced. “Well, if you’re going to be like that then I rescind my offer of hanging out.”

“No! No!” Richie scrambled back into his chair, grabbing Eddie’s hands and squeezing their fingers together. “We can hang out! I’ll walk with Bill!”

Bev chuckled and Eddie shot her a glare, pulling his hands out of Richie’s grasp so he could finish his lunch. He’d already wasted most of the period and he wasn’t about to go hungry for the rest of the day just because of Richie’s dramatics. 

“Glad we got that settled.” 

Richie beamed and finished his sandwich in two bites, wiping his hands on his jeans which earned him a scowl from Eddie and a napkin thrown in his face. 

Eddie ducked his head as he finished his own sandwich, a faint blush scorching his cheeks.

He could still feel the ghost of Richie’s touch for the rest of the day.

* * *

Eddie wasn’t sure Tuesday actually happened. One minute he was going to bed on Monday, his mind whirling with thoughts of _new things_ and _Richie_ and the next it was Wednesday after school and he was just _nervous_. 

He stood at his locker, staring at the books inside without actually seeing them. His heart was going too fast against his ribcage, his blood screaming in his ears. 

_This was a mistake. I’m not an artist. I shouldn’t do this. I should just find Richie and we can go home together like usual._

A hand slammed into the locker beside his head and he jumped at the noise, all his thoughts scattering as fear gripped his chest. The fear melted into relief when he followed the arm up to the familiar grinning face of Richie.

_Speak of the devil._

“Richie.” Eddie’s voice was a sigh, his smile genuine. “I was just thinking about finding you.”

“Aw Eds, getting cold feet?”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head. “Actually … yeah.” 

Richie’s fingers replaced his own, his hand hot and heavy against his skin. Eddie tried not to melt at the touch, but then those long fingers began massaging the tense muscles and he breathed a sigh. 

“No one’s making you go,” Richie murmured, his head dipped into Eddie’s space. Eddie looked up into his eyes, and it was like they were the only two people in the world. “If you’re only doing it because Bev guilted you into it, then don’t. But if this is something you think you might enjoy, even a little bit, you gotta at least try. You can’t let your anxiety make all your choices for you.”

Richie’s gaze was warm and earnest, his hand a comforting weight, and Eddie sighed again.

“You’re right.”

Richie grinned, bright and fast, and squeezed the back of Eddie’s neck before dropping his hand. “I always am.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight between feet. “Want me to walk you to the club?”

_Yes._

“No. You’ve got to go find Bill before he leaves without you. You know he’s not one for waiting.”

Richie chuckled and shook his head, his curls bouncing around his face. “You’re right.” He didn’t leave right away, just smiled at Eddie.

“Richie.”

“Right! Right!” Richie walked backwards a few steps, not bothering to check for obstacles. “We still on for after?”

“Of course.”

Richie flashed another grin before turning and half sprinting down the hall to find Bill. Eddie shook his head with a smile, pulling his backpack on and slamming his locker shut.

Richie was right. He couldn’t let his anxiety make all his choices.

Not anymore.

Although as he stood outside the door the classroom, a death grip on his backpack strap, he realized it was easier said than done. He knew it was just a club, that he wasn’t going to get graded or judged. It was just meant to be fun. 

_I can do this_.

He could still feel the warmth of Richie’s hand on his neck, could practically hear his voice as he squared his shoulders and stepped into the classroom. His palms were slick with sweat and he pressed them against his thighs, ignoring the racing of his heart as he took in the classroom.

A few tables were spread throughout the room, the once brown tables a myriad of colors from years of paint splattered on the surface. Easels lined the back wall, some empty, others with blank canvases or partial paintings. People were speckled throughout the room, some at the tables, others on the floor or at an easel. There were about ten in total, and not a single one looked up at his entrance.

His shoulders dropped a breath with his relief. He’d been worried he would stand out, but the kids here all looked … normal. His eyes fell on a guy sitting in the corner with dyed black hair falling over kohl rimmed eyes.

Well, normal enough. 

Mrs. Peters _\- Laura_ \- saw him and smiled, excusing herself from her conversation to greet him. 

“Eddie! I’m glad you decided to show up. Did you bring any materials?”

“Just the pencils I use in class,” he said with a shake of his head, the doubt licking at his stomach like flames. He should have bought a sketchbook or something. He wasn’t prepared for this. He didn’t belong. 

Her smile was soft and she clasped his shoulder with a gentle squeeze, using her grip to lead him to a cupboard in the back of the room. Inside it was full of piles of sketchbooks and tubs of art supplies, most of them obviously having been used before. 

“I always keep extras,” she said with another smile. “You never know when someone might be inspired.” She winked and he found himself smiling as he began to relax a bit more. It was hard to feel anything but welcome with her. “Just grab whatever looks good to you and start creating.”

He hesitated, his fingers hovering an inch from his side. He didn’t even know what half the things were. 

She must have seen his hesitation, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she pulled a gently used sketchbook down. “It’s okay if you don’t know what you’re doing. Everyone has to start somewhere.” Next she grabbed some colored pencils and what looked like watercolor paints. “The purpose of this club is for kids to have a place to comfortably express themselves.” She handed the pile to him with a smile. “I’m here to answer any questions you may have and to help you on your journey, but don’t be afraid to ask your peers. This is a _community_.”

Eddie nodded, gripping the sketchbook with white knuckles as the nerves slammed back into his body with a vengeance. 

What was he doing?

Laura gave him one last smile before slipping away to check on a student who motioned for her. His eyes danced around the room, looking for any open place to sit. He briefly thought about joining the emo in the corner when someone waving caught his eye.

They looked vaguely familiar with sandy brown hair that curled around their ears and a slightly crooked nose.

“Eddie! Hey! I didn’t know you were an artist!” When he got closer he noticed a spattering of freckles across their nose, and a crooked front tooth in their smile.

“Ah yeah, it’s uh … kind of a new thing?” He set his pile of supplies down on the table with a small smile. 

_History! We have history together!_

“Noah!”

Noah jerked back at Eddie’s volume, his smile faltering as confusion flashed across his face.

“Sorry! I - uh, we’ve got history together … right?” He hesitated before pulling out the chair to sit, suddenly unsure. If he’d guessed wrong then Noah would probably tell him to hit the road. 

Maybe he would be sitting by the emo after all.

“Yeah!” Noah nodded, his smile brightening a few watts. “And math and lunch.”

Eddie winced, finally pulling the chair out to sit. “Sorry. I’m not great with faces … or names.”

“It’s okay,” Noah said with a laugh. “Normally I’m not either, but you’re kind of hard to miss.” He ducked his head, hair falling in front of his eyes as his cheeks turned pink with a blush. “I mean … you and your friends are …” He trailed off with a shake of his head, the pink deepening into red.

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, we can be a lot.”

Noah peered at him from beneath his hair and Eddie couldn’t help but notice how green his eyes were, or the veins of gold that seemed to sparkle through them.

_He’s kind of cute._

The thought surprised him. He’d never really noticed the cuteness of another person before, aside from Richie, and he wasn’t really sure what to do with the information.

“Uh, so.” Eddie shook his head, pushing the thought of his head. There was nothing _to do_ with it. He glanced at his sketchbook with a frown. “How do you art?”

Noah laughed, the sound was light and pleasant and Eddie found himself smiling along.

The next hour passed quickly as Noah showed him some sketching basics. He warned that he was barely more than a beginner himself, but Eddie found his teachings to be quite helpful. True what he created wasn’t masterpiece material, but it was certainly better than the stick figures he’d drawn as a kid. 

“Art is really just doing whatever feels right,” Noah said as they packed up. He rose to his feet and it was only then that Eddie realized how close they had been sitting. His leg tingling at the sudden lack of warmth. “There’s not really a _right way_ to do it.”

“I mean … I feel like that’s not true, but I don’t know enough about art to argue.”

Noah chuckled and then Laura was there, collecting the supplies left scattered on the tables.

“He’s not wrong, Eddie,” she said with a smile. “Yes there are technical parts to art, but it’s truly about _feeling_.”

They lingered to help her finish cleaning up, the rest of the club members having already headed to their cars and homes. When Eddie tried to add his sketchbook to the pile in the cupboard she shook her head, pushing it back into his hands.

“It’s yours now.” She smiled and ushered the boys out of the room, locking it behind her. “I hope to see you again next week, Eddie.”

Noah nodded in agreement, his green eyes sparkling with his smile. “Yeah! It was really fun to draw with you.”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, tucking his sketchbook under his arm. “Yeah, I had fun too.”

Laura smiled at them and bid them farewell, heading in the opposite direction of the student parking lot. 

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” Noah asked as they pushed through the doors. The parking lot was nearly empty, only a few cars left at this hour. 

Eddie shook his head. “Nah, Richie’s house isn’t too far.”

Noah nodded and something flashed across his face, gone before Eddie could place it. 

“Well, have fun.” He paused next to a beat up car, one hand resting against the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It was more of a question than a statement and Eddie smiled. “Yeah, of course. We have history together.”

Noah smiled back and they parted ways, Eddie heading down the road towards Richie’s place. Something fluttered in his chest, something warm that gave him a bounce to his step, something that had him actually looking forward to class the next day. 

He was still smiling when he got the Richie’s house, his hand still raised in his knock when the door flew open. Richie stood just inside, a bright grin on his face and his hair a tousled mess. He was in a pair of sweats and a band t-shirt, clearly having spent his afternoon napping.

“Eddie, my love!” Richie tugged him into the house and into a hug, squeezing him once. “I missed you!” 

“It’s barely been an hour!” But Eddie was smiling against Richie’s chest. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d missed Richie too.

“Excuse you, it was almost two.” Richie let him go, leading him into the kitchen for sodas and snacks. With arms piled full of munchies they headed into Richie’s room, dropping their snacks on the bed. Richie kicked the door shut, even though they were the only ones home, and turned on the small TV he had at the foot of his bed. Then he threw himself on the bed next to the snacks, patting what little empty space was left for Eddie to sit. “So! How was your first club going?”

Eddie sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing a bag of sour cream and onion chips and opening them with a crinkle. He loved coming to Richie’s because he could eat as much junk food as he wanted, and Richie always made sure to keep his favorites.

“It was nice.” Eddie crunched on a few chips, staring at his toes as they wiggled in his socks. “Noah showed me some of the basics.”

“Noah?”

“Yeah, we have a couple of classes together apparently.”

Eddie wasn’t sure why he felt nervous, it wasn’t like they’d never had friends outside their group before. His mind flashed back to the feel of Noah’s leg pressed against his, the way their fingers would brush when he showed him how to do something, and a flush curled up his neck. 

“Oh. It’s good that you found a friend!” Richie’s smile was bright, almost too bright, and Eddie frowned. “How long until you want me to model for you?”

“What?”

“You know.” Richie winked waggling his eyebrows. “Nude portraits.”

The blush that had been teasing Eddie’s cheeks before came on in a sudden wave of flame. He ducked his head and shoved one of the snacks into Richie’s face to silence him. Richie just laughed, accepting the treat and popping it into his mouth with a grin. 

“I don’t think you’d be able to sit still long enough for a portrait.”

“For you, I can do anything.” Richie winked again and Eddie huffed, telling himself that Richie was just joking. That it didn’t mean anything.

His stupid heart didn’t listen, pounding far too hard against his ribs. 

They fell into a comfortable silence as Richie hooked up one of his games, the two of them snacking and playing until the light outside began to fade. Eddie was sad to go, wishing he could spend the rest of his night with Richie, but knowing his mother would lose her head if he tried. 

“You gonna keep going?” Richie asked as they walked to Eddie’s. Eddie had insisted he could go alone, but Richie whined about not getting his daily walk after school, and Eddie hadn’t argued too much. He liked walking with Richie, sometimes their fingers would brush, sometimes Richie would throw an arm around his shoulders. It was always nice.

“To art club? Yeah.” Eddie played with his backpack strap, his eyes on the ground as they walked. “I want to see what I can do.”

He’d never considered himself an artist, never really been interested in art before, but he’d had fun today, and even though he’d only done a few sketches of lines and figures … he felt like he could maybe make something out of it. Plus he’d enjoyed spending time with Noah, and he found himself wanting to get to know the other boy better.

Richie smiled and bumped his shoulder. “I’m glad, but that means you’re gonna have to come over _every_ Wednesday. I need my daily dose of Eddie.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, bumping Richie back. “You see me every day already.”

“Yeah but it’s not the same.”

They were outside Eddie’s house, paused on the sidewalk at the end of his driveway. He stared up at Richie, almost drowning in those bright eyes as Richie stared back. 

His hand brushed Eddie’s cheek and Eddie had to stop himself from nuzzling into the touch. Something was different about Richie, his eyes lacking their usually sparks of laughter, dark and serious instead. 

“Eddie-”

“ _Eddie-bear!_ ” 

Eddie flinched and Richie dropped his hand, shoving it into his pocket as Sonia came barrelling out the door. She wrapped her arms around Eddie, yanking him out of Richie’s reach with her hug.

“I was so worried!”

Eddie bit back a sigh, rolling his eyes at Richie as he patted his mom’s arm. “I called you and told you when I would be home.” He smiled at Richie and lifted a hand in goodbye, mouthing promises to talk later. Richie smiled back, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes, and then he turned and headed down the road. 

Eddie watched him go with a slight frown. What had he been about to say before his mom showed up? Why had he looked so … sad?

Eddie shook his head and let his mom drag him into the house, pushing the worries from his head. He was probably just seeing things that weren’t there. 

* * *

The next few months passed in a blur. Eddie managed in his classes, his grades doing better than ever before in math thanks to Noah. He still hung out with the Losers almost every day, but now Noah was occasionally there as well. He didn’t eat lunch with them every day, but when he did it was nice. Stan seemed to like him, even more so after Noah expressed interest in bird watching, and Bev positively glowed when Noah complimented her recent performance. 

Richie was … different. He was quieter when Noah was there, less jokes and dramatics. Eddie wondered if maybe he was trying not to scare Noah off. Eddie loved Richie and his loud personality, but it could be a lot, especially if you hadn’t grown up with him.

They still hung out after art club every Wednesday. Usually playing video games in Richie’s room and gorging themselves on snacks, sometimes they would go to the Aladdin, other times they’d hang out in the clubhouse with whoever might be there. Bev called it their date night, laughing when Eddie blushed and Richie planted a wet kiss to his cheek. 

“I like your friends,” Noah said, one day during club. The weather had begun to warm, winter bleeding into spring, and Laura had gathered them outside for some sunshine.

“They like you too. In fact … you could probably even say they’re _your_ friends too.” Noah wasn’t part of the Losers club, probably never would be, but he _was_ part of their group.

Noah laughed and shook his head. “If you say so.”

“Bro, you went bird watching with Stan. He only does that with friends.” Noah rubbed the back of his neck and Eddie grinned, bumping his shoulder. 

“Alright, I’ll give you that. But …” He trailed off with another shake of his head. Eddie’s thoughts went to Richie and his odd behavior when Noah was around, it had gotten better, but not by much. Richie was just … _awkward_.

Richie was never awkward.

“Yeah, okay. So you aren’t a missing puzzle piece, but … I like having you around and that’s all that really matters.” 

Eddie grinned, bright and fast, and something passed across Noah’s face that made butterflies erupt in his stomach. It was gone before Eddie could really analyze it, Noah ducking his head to shove his supplies in his bag as everyone began dispersing. 

They walked together to Noah’s car, as they did every Wednesday, the parking lot around them nearly empty. A few of their fellow club goers waved goodbye as they climbed into a truck and peeled out of the lot, and Eddie saw the emo kid from the first day - Bryce - hop on a bike and pedal away without a second glance.

He filled the air with chatter about his drawings, and how proud he was that his people were actually starting to look like people, but he could tell something was off with Noah. He was quiet, his answers one word or just a noise, his eyes on anything but Eddie.

They paused next to his car and finally Noah looked at him. The gold in his green eyes sparked with determination.

“Eddie.”

Eddie blinked, his heart stuttering when he realized what that determination was for.

He had plenty of time to stop Noah. To throw his hands up or to step away. Yet when one of Noah’s hands rested on his shoulder, fingers teasing the skin of his neck, he didn’t move. When Noah took a step closer, until the distance between them was practically non-existent, he didn’t move.

He didn’t move when he tasted Noah’s breath on his lips, instead letting his eyes flutter closed, his hands hovering at his sides. Lips brushed his, a tentative touch, a question. 

Eddie didn’t pull away and Noah’s lips pressed against his with more force. His heart pounded against his chest, so loud that he couldn’t hear anything else, and his fingers finally curled in the fabric of Noah’s shirt.

He knew they were in the parking lot at school, that anyone could walk by and see, that his secret would be out, but he couldn’t seem to care about any of that. 

Kissing Noah was better than kissing Bev had been. Sparks lit in his stomach and spread through his veins. Noah’s lips were firm against his, his chest hard under his hands. He tasted sweet, the cupcake he’d eaten during club lingering on his mouth. It was _nice_. 

Yet all he could think about was Richie. 

He sighed and took a step back, breaking the kiss. 

“I-I’m sorry. I just assumed - I thought.” Noah's eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed. He shook his head and took a step back himself, putting more distance between them. “I should have asked.”

“I-” Eddie shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I mean. I _liked_ it. I am … you know. I just …” He shook his head again, unable to say the word. “I just … I have someone else.”

Light dawned in Noah’s eyes. “Oh god, I should have known you and Richie were dating.” Eddie opened his mouth, but Noah was rambling now. “It makes sense. I mean I’ve seen you too together, and the way Richie acts around me.” He paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair. “And with Richie being bi, like … of course he’d snatch you up.”

_Wait._

“Noah!” Eddie grabbed Noah’s shoulders, forcing him to stop. “What are you talking about? Richie and I … we’re not _dating_. Richie’s not … he’s … he’s bi?” 

Eddie couldn’t believe it. He… couldn’t believe that Richie would tell _Noah_ , a guy he didn’t even _like_ , before telling Eddie.

_He knows. He knows I’m gay and I like him and he didn’t want to give me any hope._

“You … didn’t know?” Noah’s eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his hand, biting the knuckle. “Shit, _fuck_. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just thought … he came to GSA. He didn’t say anything about it being secret.”

Eddie shook his head. “I … he’s my _best friend_ , and he didn’t tell me.” Eddie knew this wasn’t about him, that he shouldn’t make it about him, but the hurt was heavy in his heart. “I’m _gay_.” 

“I, uh, kind of guessed.”

Eddie laughed, but the sound was choked and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I’m gay and I’m in love with Richie and he _knows_. He must know. Or else he would have told me he was bi. We tell each other everything!”

“Does he know you’re gay?”

The question froze Eddie in his tracks. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“I … well _no_. But that’s … different?”

“Is it?” Noah arched a brow and Eddie sighed, falling against the car next to him. Noah bumped his shoulder, leaving his arm pressed against Eddie’s, the warmth a comfort.

“No. I guess it’s really not.” He dropped his head. “I haven’t told him because I’m … scared. But he has no reason to be scared! I would never judge him!”

“You know it’s not that easy.”

He sighed again and pressed his palms to his eyes. “You’re right. I know, I just …” Eddie dropped his hands and looked at Noah. “What if it’s _me?_ What if he didn’t tell me because … he _knows_.” 

“Eddie, I can tell you with certainty that Richie isn’t hiding this from you because he knows you’re gay. Hell, if he knew he’d probably be dragging you to pride.” Noah squeezed his shoulder and smiled. “If anything, it’s probably for the same reason as you.”

 _Because he likes me_?

He shot that thought down before it could take root. 

“Maybe you should talk to Richie.” 

“What? Why?”

Noah breathed a laugh and shook his head. 

“Because he’s your _best friend_.”

Eddie pursed his lips, another sigh drooping his shoulders. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Noah’s smile was soft, the hand on Eddie’s shoulder warm, but there was a sadness in his eyes that made Eddie’s heart twist. 

“I’m guessing this means you aren’t interested in going on a date.”

He shook his head, resting his fingers on top of Noah’s with a light squeeze. “I wouldn’t say I’m not interested but … I like you, just …”

“Not as much as Richie.”

He nodded, a blush climbing up his neck. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, as long as we can still be friends.”

“Of course!” 

Noah laughed and pushed away from the car, the keys jingling in his hand. “Want me to give you a ride?”

Normally Eddie turned him down, but today he smiled, already heading towards the passenger side. “Yeah, could you drop me off at Richie’s?”

“Gladly.”

* * *

Richie was waiting for him on the porch. 

“Just talk to him,” Noah said, pushing him out of the car. Eddie went with a huff, shooting a glare over his shoulder as Noah drove off. 

“Hey,” he said, shuffling up the walkway. Richie glanced up from his phone, his eyes lighting with his smile. 

“Eddie!” He hopped off the chair and down the steps, throwing his arms around Eddie in a hug. “I was starting to worry. Bev and I were already designing your missing posters.”

“Jeez, you sound as bad as my mom.” Eddie shoved his shoulder, his smile feeling forced. 

The weight of what he had to talk about lay heavy on his chest, and he couldn’t stop the worry from knotting his stomach. It wasn’t going to change anything, but the chance that it might was enough to make him want to run. 

“Well, the important thing is you’re here now!” Richie steered him towards the house, either not noticing, or just choosing not to comment on Eddie’s anxiety. 

“Um yeah, I’m here.” Eddie bit his lip, following Richie to his room. “And we need to … talk.”

Richie arched a brow and dropped to the bed with a bounce. “Is this a confession? Are you going to profess your undying love to me? Should I get ready to elope?” Richie gasped and pressed a hand to his chest. “Are you breaking up with me, Eds?”

“What? No. Beep beep Richie.” 

Richie laughed and patted the bed next to him, but Eddie chose the desk chair instead. Needing the space to think. 

“This is … I don’t really know how to say this.” Eddie sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Noah told me you were bi!” The words spilled from his lips and he bit his lip. “I mean … he didn’t _mean_ to. He thought I already knew, and he feels _really_ bad about it. But I can’t just … pretend like I don’t know. That would be wrong. And I promise that it doesn’t change anything!” He looked up at Richie, eyes wide and earnest. “You’re still my best friend! And I mean I’m …” He trailed off, the word _gay_ dying on his lips.

He knew Richie’s secret, but he couldn’t tell his own. 

“Eddie.” Richie moved off the bed to stand in front of Eddie, towering over the other boy. “Calm down. Breathe.”

Eddie did, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The words were quiet, a broken whisper as the hurt crashed back into him. He knew he shouldn't be so upset, it was Richie's life and Richie's choice, and it wasn't like Eddie was leaping to share his secrets. Yet the hurt still hung heavy on his heart.

Then Richie’s hands were on his shoulders, a comfortable weight that made him want to throw his arms around the taller boy and squeeze tight. 

“Are you sure I didn’t?”

Eddies eyes snapped open and he craned his neck up to stare at Richie. “No! You didn’t!”

Richie frowned. “Huh … I could have sworn I said something.” He scratched his head, stepping back to sit on the bed again. “I know I’ve talked about being attracted to dudes before. Just last week I was rating _Game of Thrones_ characters with Bev.”

“You’ve never said it. I just thought that was how you were. That it meant nothing!” _That you calling me cute meant nothing_. 

“Well, I mean, yeah I guess I never said the word, but I just thought it was obvious.”

“Not to me!” 

“Oh, well ... I’m bisexual.”

“I know that now!”

Richie laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Why does it matter so much, Eds? Got a crush on me?”

_Yes._

“No! I just … we’re friends Richie.” Eddie rose, moving to sit beside Richie on the bed. “We’re friends and I want you to know you can tell me anything.”

Richie’s eyes softened, his smile warm. “Yeah, I know.” He rested a hand on Eddie’s leg and Eddie felt the touch all the way to his bones. “You can tell me anything too. I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

_I’m gay and I love you._

“You? A great listener? When have you ever shut up long enough to listen?”

“Hey! I take offense to that!”

Eddie laughed and leaned against Richie, feeling a warmth settle in his chest. He wasn’t ready to share his deepest secrets yet, but he knew that when he was Richie would be there. 

“I’m sorry. I know when it matters you’re there.”

Richie squeezed his thigh. “I’ll always be there for you.” The blush was hot on his cheeks and he turned his head towards Richie, pressing his forehead against his shoulder. Richie wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugged him close, falling to the bed at the same time. “You’ll always be my number one.” 

Eddie breathed a happy sigh. 

“You’ll always be my number one too.” 

_I love you. I love you so much._

Richie hummed and squeezed him tight, and Eddie felt the softest brush of lips over his forehead. “Thank you," he murmured, his breath stirring Eddie's hair.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

Eddie smiled and curled his hand against Richie’s chest. “I don’t know how to be anyone else."

"Good."

Richie hummed again and Eddie let the warmth fall over him like a blanket. He loved Richie, so completely that it made him want to sing, and knowing that Richie was bi made him think that maybe, just _maybe,_ there might actually be a chance. That maybe, one day, Richie might just love him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was joking with my roommate when I said each chapter was going to be 2000 words longer than the one before, but it seems like that might actually happen ... whoops. 
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos! I hope you continue to enjoy this fic!!


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